


kiss me

by tenderybitch (FictitiousFanatisch)



Series: ten things i hate about you [6]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Masturbation, Past johnten, Pining, Roommates, Sad, Ten's POV, Toxic Relationship, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Wet Dream, Yearning, ex boyfriends, ten is a dickbag, wayv dorm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictitiousFanatisch/pseuds/tenderybitch
Summary: Johnny was all at once salvation and damnation. Loving him was like heaven, but his mouth was pure sin.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Series: ten things i hate about you [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604263
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING** for emotional manipulation, toxic relationships and unhealthy obsessions ahead.  
> 

**_July 2020_ **

_Strong arms keep his hands pinned above him, holding him down against the mattress. Warm lips suck smooth, wet kisses down his neck, his chest. Ten arches up, needy, his entire body flushed with an unbearable heat._

_Sweat beads on his brow as a strong thigh pushes up against his groin, where he’s throbbing, dick so hard it hurts. He gasps when one of those hands comes down to grip the shape of him through his boxers, tongue dipping into his belly button before flicking out._

_Those hands curl under the waistband, ripping his boxers down his thighs in one swift motion. Then there’s a hot mouth sliding around his dick, tongue swirling around the head. Ten moans out loud, overwhelmed by the sudden stimulation._

_He pushes one hand through the man's chestnut fringe, just feeling it’s soft, silky texture. Ten tugs on it gently until he pulls off, his face finally coming into view._

_“Hyung,” he strains, his heart heavy. He suddenly feels like a dark cloud has come over them both, an unexplainable sadness shrouding his judgement._

_“I wish this was real.”_

_But Johnny just tilts his head to the side._

_“How do you know it’s not?”_

_Ten doesn’t want to answer that honestly._

_“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Just a feeling, I guess.”_

_Johnny kisses his hand._

_“It could be, though.”_

-

Ten’s eyelids break open slowly. He lifts his head from his pillow, taking in his surroundings. Their room is dark. He feels hot, sweat sticking his shirt to his back.

He glances across the room, squinting until his eyes focus in on his roommate. It’s always the first thing he thinks to do after waking up.

Kunhang is a small lump under his duvet, totally hidden except for a tuft of blonde hair sticking out at the top. The lump moves slowly, evenly with his breaths. He’s asleep.

_What time is it anyway?_

Ten reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing his phone.

_4 am. Fuck._

He’s immediately hit with dread. This is the third time this week he’s been kept up by torturous dreams of his ex.

Last night, _he and Johnny were still trainees, and hyung grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the practice room, away from the others. He pulled him in tow into the stairwell and pushed Ten up against the wall before kissing him, hard and desperate. Ten got butterflies, just like he did all those years ago._ And he woke up feeling worse than he had in years.

Of course it had to be a sexual dream this time, too. Ten wishes he could catch a break. Not only is it annoying, but it’s embarrassing. He’s a grown man. He hasn’t had issues like this since he was a teenager. They had a full day of filming for music shows yesterday. He’s fucking tired and now he’s horny, too. It’s just wrong.

Ten sighs. He feels down between his legs, fingers coming around his erection which stands tall, tenting his boxers. He looks over at his sleeping roommate. He really doesn’t want to rub one out right next to him, because he’d like to think he does have _some_ sense of decency left. But he can’t sleep like this. He has to be up early again tomorrow.

Ten sighs. He makes his decision quickly, not giving himself time to feel guilty about it. He rolls out of bed, steps over Louis’s sleeping form and makes his way across the room. He opens the top drawer of the dresser slowly, peering over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure the sound hasn’t woken Kunhang. He reaches under the pile of clothes, tugging out the familiar, crumpled black t-shirt before shutting it once more.

He slips into the hall bathroom surreptitiously, carefully pulling it shut behind him. He wastes no time freeing his erection, shoving his boxers down mid thigh and lubing it with the unscented lotion they keep under the sink. He leans his weight back against the door, wraps his fingers around his dick and gives it a few slow pumps. When he settles into a rhythm, he presses the shirt against his face, inhaling deeply. He feels himself get more aroused immediately as memories stir in his mind.

_Johnny calling Ten after practice finished and when he arrived he had just gotten out of the shower, this very scent clinging to his still damp skin. Johnny hyung’s presence, his toned body, his sweltering heat holding Ten against the door, and those eyes, trapping him like prey._

Ten’s hand tightens on his cock, speeding the strokes as he remembers the things Johnny used to do to him. Johnny was all at once salvation and damnation. Loving him was like heaven, but his mouth was pure sin. He made Ten what he is.

In the beginning, it was the two of them against the world. Johnny had never been with a guy before and Ten wanted to turn him out, leave his mark on him. He was desperate to show this one area he had more experience in, felt like he had something to prove. It was messy from the start, shy smiles and breathy giggles, sloppy kisses, hair pulling, rutting needily against each other in the darkness behind a locked door in the dorm. Ten was always hoping for a spare moment with him, for Johnny’s mind to wander and his hands to follow. Ten’s eagerness made it clear what he wanted, but that he had absolutely no idea how to get it. And Johnny soon realized his true role in their relationship– as the gentle, yet stern mentor, provider, and the protector.

 _“We don’t have to rush, babe. Let’s just take it slow,”_ Johnny would say, because he may have seemed cold and capable to members younger than him, but to Ten, hyung was warm like the sun. Ten already recognized his bond with Johnny was deeper than with anyone else. Above all, he trusted Johnny. Ten embraced his will because he knew, if he allowed himself to submit to it, something beautiful was in store.

And it was.

Johnny was a gentle lover, reveling in quiet, careful intimacy. He worked Ten up with only whispered words, subtle glances and sly smiles. Back then, if they had the time, the elder made him wait for what felt like _hours_ , spent only kissing and touching. In those moments, Ten realized how much more gratifying sex could be with someone who knew him. Ten was more experienced, but found a surprising freedom by giving that freedom up to someone else. Someone older, who he could trust. His best friend, his mentor, his partner, and soul mate. It was only a matter of time before he gave Johnny everything.

Ten went to him when he was overwhelmed and Johnny was quiet, drawing him into his chest. His strong hand curled around the back of Ten’s neck and just held him steady, grounding him, like if he didn’t, the wind might carry him away. The other hand sat on Ten’s lower back, thumb slipping under the hem of his shirt to trace circles into his skin. A soothing motion so he wouldn’t sink beneath the heavy weight of his negative thoughts.

Johnny was bigger and stronger but he had this way of touching Ten, that was devastating. He held him like he was a doll, like he was made of porcelain that needed to be cherished and protected. He kissed him like that, soft and slow, before pressing him into the mattress.

In those moments, he treated Ten like he was a royalty, like he was delicate and needed to be doted on with special care. Johnny spoiled him, gave him everything he ever wanted, and never told him no. He granted his wishes like a genie, overwhelming his senses with an unreal amount of attention, affection and affirmation. It was magical, like something out of a fucking fairy tale. It set Ten’s soul on fire, dousing him from his head to his toes in an inconceivable kind of love. Obsession. Desire.

It was intoxicating to experience hyung that way—vulnerable and eager to please; his pleasure was discovered through finding his partner’s.

Johnny made his body feel sacred, like a divine place of worship. Every touch, every kiss, and every lingering gaze was a part of their own secret ritual. Not necessarily because of what they did together, but because of how it _felt_. Johnny was transfixed, like Ten was the only other person in the world. And Ten had never felt like that before, like he was beautiful and _special_ to someone. Before Johnny, he never knew he needed it. Those nights, it went on and on and when they were finished, Ten was so spent he could barely move.

But sometimes Ten didn’t want to be treated like he was made of glass. He wanted to be broken, shattered, and bent out of shape. He needed to be trained and disciplined, like a dog. He was bad. He was difficult. He needed someone to reign him in and keep him in check.

And then, Johnny was rough at his request; shoving Ten to his knees, fingers gripping his hair with a terrifying strength and hauling the younger on and off his dick with a force that nearly had him choking. He took on an authoritative role easily, naturally, sitting back as Ten worked hard to please him, either on his knees with his hands clasped behind his back or straddling his hips, thigh muscles straining and hair falling into his eyes as he bounced on his dick.

Johnny tossed him around like a ragdoll, literally. He always praised Ten for his flexibility. He liked bending his body in half, hooking his legs over his shoulders or pressing his knees to his chest when he split him open, inch by inch. He held his wrists together against his spine as he took him from behind. He dragged Ten to the edge of the mattress and gripped his throat as he fed him his cock upside down, making him feel so full he thought he would die.

Although Ten’s strong personality initially felt pressured into a submissive role, he _loved_ being submissive for Johnny. He knew Johnny would always take care of him. And there was something so hot about pushing his gentle, kind, easy going partner until he snapped. He loved being manhandled by his hyung behind closed doors. He wanted the elder to stain his ass and thighs with dark purple bruises and bite marks, to fuck his throat raw until he lost his voice and to leave his body sore and aching when they were finished.

Ten wanted the other members to know he was Johnny’s bitch, that those were their hyung’s love bites on his neck, his finger shaped bruises on his hips and that his dick was the reason he couldn’t get out of bed.

Johnny was too powerful. He made Ten feel like he was melting between his fingers. And Ten yearned for Johnny when he was away from him for too long, his entire body aching with the need to feel his lips and skin against his own, warming him from the inside out. It was a drug, a high Ten chased for years hoping to understand it, to conquer it.

His fist flies over his dick now, pulling long, full strokes that tighten toward the head. The image of Johnny is vivid behind his eyelids, his beautiful body, his endless legs, the hard, defined muscles that line his stomach, his chest, firm pectorals and his biceps. His soft lips, his warm eye smile, his big hands, his cock--

Ten wants those hands on him right now, roaming, fingers pressing into the meat of his thighs or wrapped around his neck. He wants those lips against his own and he wants Johnny’s dick so bad, his legs shake. The desire to touch him, to taste him just one last time aches deep in Ten’s core. He wishes for just a moment he could feel the hard line of Johnny’s torso against his, inhale this intoxicating scent up close.

Sorrow and lust builds like a hurricane in his stomach. His orgasm is a violent storm that envelops him out of nowhere. It curls up his spine as his vision blurs with static and he cums hard over his fist, working himself again and again until he stings with sensitivity.

He comes down slowly, panting hard in the darkness of the bathroom.

Regret hits him almost instantly, not only of the knowledge that he just got himself off _again_ to thoughts of his ex after nearly a year of mutually agreed upon separation, but that he cums harder at mere thoughts of Johnny than at anything his roommate has done for him over the last few months.

The worst part is not the guilt and shame of leading Kunhang on. It’s not the pain of loneliness Ten carries every day without Johnny, or the knowledge that the man will never truly love him the way he needs to be loved.

What bothers Ten the most in that moment is that the scent of Johnny’s t-shirt is much less fragrant than it was when he took it, fading more and more every time he does this. He nicked it from Johnny’s closet about a month ago, ripping it off its hanger and stuffing it in his bag when the older man stepped out to get a drink from the kitchen. He knew it would help him sleep in Johnny’s absence, but now it seems like he uses it more to masturbate than anything else.

They’re friends, though. So it makes Ten feel ashamed in moments like this, with jizz cooling on his fingers and exhaustion settling back into his bones. It’s his dirty secret; he would be mortified if someone found out. Especially someone like his roommate.

 _Whatever_ , Ten thinks, angrily. _So what?_

So what if he’s not over it? So what if he wakes up at 4 am in a cold sweat, his skin burning and body aching for Johnny’s touch. So what if he jerks off to thoughts of Johnny hyung and cums with his face in his crumpled t-shirt that still vaguely smells of his cologne? He’s the only one who’ll ever know about it.

Then reality returns.

It’s been over six months and he’s still not over it. Ten is far from over it. He feels like shit all the time these days. He used to be good at ignoring his true feelings, at snuffing out the flames until he became cold and numb. But it’s not working anymore.

Ten sees Johnny all the time now, visits the 127 dorm often because he can’t be away from him for too long. On the fifth floor, he sits on the edge of his bed while they talk and he can’t help it that his mind wanders back to a time where Johnny would push him down on top of it. He can’t help yearning for it, thinking about how happy he would feel if he did.

But Johnny is oblivious, as per usual. He doesn’t _care_. He’s probably already forgotten about all these things that keep Ten up at night.

He sighs.

Ten washes up quickly and fixes his clothes. He returns to his room, stuffs the shirt under his pillow and crawls back in bed.

He closes his eyes and wills the dark, intrusive thoughts out of his mind. Eventually he manages to go back to sleep.

-

Ten has a cure.

It’s more of an obsession at this point. He’s been doing it for so long now, it feels natural.

He runs the tip of his index finger over his roommate’s bottom lip, tracing the motion with his eyes. The younger shudders underneath his touch, those deep, dark, soul eating orbs coming up to meet his. He looks otherworldly right now, bare chested and basking in the morning light, his soft skin radiating innocence, incipience.

Ten cups his hand, bringing it up to rest upon his cheek. He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth Kunhang’s palm emits, the gentle thump of his pulse in his wrist.

“Good morning.” Ten hums, kissing over it.

“Morning,” he replies, voice rough with sleep.

“I have to go soon. SuperM schedule.” he reminds himself. He's already showered and dressed, “But I know you hate it when I don’t wake you before leaving.”

“…I hate waking up alone.” Kunhang murmurs, lifting his other hand to rub at his eyes.

“Yeah. I know.” Ten slides his fingers down to his forearm, massaging them into the soft, doughy flesh.

“When do you need to go?” he wonders.

“About 20 min or so. Can you feed the boys in a little bit?” Thinking how Louis and Leon usually eat later in the morning.

Kunhang nods, his eyes slipping shut once more. And Ten just looks at him, his beautiful face. There’s always something so pure and vulnerable about him, but it’s amplified in this moment. He looks like a cherub from an Italian renaissance painting, messy blonde hair framing his face like a halo.

A strange feeling tugs at Ten’s heart. He suddenly has the urge to risk his whole career and ditch his responsibilities, to climb under Kunhang’s covers with him, curl his arms around his small waist, press his head against his chest and and hold him for another hour at least. Either that, or be a good hyung for once and buy him something expensive just to see the big, goofy smile on his goofy face.

“Kunhang,” he breathes, revelling in the way his eyes flicker at the sound of his Chinese name.

“Hyung” he answers, pensive.

“You look … exceptional this morning.”

“Don’t,” Kunhang groans, “It’s too early for that.”

Ten giggles. He knows how much the younger loves to be showered in praise and compliments, and that part of the fun is pretending he doesn’t.

“It’s never too early to tell my beautiful roommate just how beautiful he is.”

Kunhang visibly shudders. “Oh please don’t start. Seriously. I’m gonna gag.”

“Come on. You’re hot. How can you expect me to see you everyday and not say something?” Ten teases. He’s so handsome, it makes him want to do something wicked. Or something beautiful, like write a song about him.

Kunhang is quiet for a beat before he sighs.

“Fine,” his arms fold over his chest. “If I’m so hot, date me.”

Ten feels himself stiffen, eyes shifting toward the wall for a brief moment.

“I totally would. But,” He forces a smile, “It’s not like you even properly asked me out.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll ask you out right now.” he challenges, eyebrows raising.

“No you won’t.”

“Will too.”

“Naw. If you wanted to date me, you would’ve asked me out already.” he sulks, looking away.

“Ya. You’re the one who made it seem like you didn’t want to. You said we shouldn’t jump into something too soon. I was following your lead. So it’s your fault.” Kunhang says, ever rational.

“Hm. I guess that’s true.” Ten tilts his head, considering.

Anyone with eyes could see what he’s doing is wrong. Anyone with a heart would’ve stopped a long time ago. But Ten is numb inside, his chest cold and empty like a tomb. He struggles daily with a growing vacancy, a void for intimate attention left from his childhood, and now from his ex. He needs to be loved and cherished, to be someone’s world, someone’s god.

And besides, Ten wants to be in love. He wants to feel connected to someone else. He wants to give Kunhang what he wants–for the boy to have a better story than he did, so he pretends sometimes, but only because it gives each of them what they so desperately crave. They need each other. Despite everything, Ten _loves_ Kunhang and he wants to be with him. He wants them to work. He wants to get over Johnny Suh. He really does.

“So…” the younger hums after a long moment, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he contemplates his next words.

Ten looks at him, committing all the glorious details to memory.

“…Will you go out with me?” Kunhang forces out, like if he hadn’t he would’ve lost the nerve.

Ten smiles, biting on his index finger, “What if i said no. Like, after all that.”

“Then I would be very annoyed with you. And for revenge I would call you ‘Yongqin gege’ for the rest of the week,” Kunhang warns.

“Oh my,” Ten’s phone vibrates against the mattress. He lifts it to eye view and surveys the message notification on the screen. “We definitely don’t want that.”

Ten gets up, but doesn’t miss the way the younger’s eyes follow him as he crosses the room, grabs his bag and tosses the strap over his shoulder.

Ten returns, cups Kunhang’s face and presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll date with you,” he whispers, sincere, before he turns on his heel and quickly exits the room. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/tenderybitch)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/tenderybxtch)   
>  [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/tenderybitch)


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